Knock, Knock
by Akira43
Summary: It's hard for The Gasman to stay strong, to prove to Iggy and Fang that he can be just as strong as they are even during the worst of times. But even 8-year-old mutant bird-kids need to be comforted sometimes. Oneshot, Gazzy's POV, scene from Book 3.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. Which is good, because if I did, it'd rank pretty high on the list of "Worst Books Ever Written."**

* * *

_Knock, knock._

_Who's there?_

_Boo._

_Boo who?_

_Don't cry, it's just a joke!_

* * *

There's all different ways to use the word "ghost". There are the ghosts that go "Boo!" on Halloween, friendly ones like Casper, and spooky ones lurk in the corners of so-called haunted houses. "Ghost" can also be used to describe a lingering feeling—a thought, a memory.

It was days after the hardest, most horrifying decision I'd had to make, and the ghost the memory left behind still haunted me. At least it felt like that long. Now Iggy, Fang, and I were somewhere in Los Angeles, waiting for a guy names Keez to come and find us.

But did we get to hang out on some beach while we were waiting? Of course not. Not after those Flyboys found us the last time we were there. Although we probably wouldn't have gone anyways, since last time Iggy wouldn't stop nagging Fang to describe the "beach bunnies" long enough to let him concentrate.

When he finally came, Keez greeted us with the ever-popular "Yo" and motioned for us to follow him.

That morning we had been minding our own business in an empty lot Fang had scouted out when we were suddenly surrounded by a gang. We'd all tensed to fight, Iggy's hand creeping towards his hidden supply of small bombs, when Keez recognized up from the news and from Fang's blog. He offered us a safe place to spend the night, and Fang had accepted his offer without a second thought.

Max would've never accepted; she'd just as soon slug him. Especially because Angel wasn't here to make sure his intentions seemed genuine. Max _never_ trusted anyone with non-avian DNA who wasn't a product of one of the whitecoats' horrifying experiments.

Except Jeb. And now Ari. Which was the reason why we were here in the first place, away from everyone else.

As Keez lead us through the maze of abandoned, rundown buildings and dark alleys that made up the back lots of LA, I wished, not for the first time, that Max, Nudge, and Angel were with us. Total, too. I wished that the emptiness of half the flock missing didn't hurt so much, didn't exist.

The gang Keez was the leader of called themselves the Ghosts, and we could tell we were in their territory because they all had cool jackets on with a picture of a ghost on the back. Unlike the ghost in my mind, these were the good ghosts, like Casper. These ghosts helped to protect, didn't linger, didn't haunt.

"I want a Ghosts jacket," I whispered to Fang, and started to automatically reach for his had. I stopped, though, once I remembered that I was supposed to be showing him that I can be tough, too. Just like he and Iggy were. I didn't need someone to hold my hand, no matter how creepy this place was, or how empty and hollow I felt.

As we entered one of the buildings and started up the stairs, the eerie aura cast by our surroundings intensified, and I once again resisted the urge to reach out and hold Fang's hand.

I needn't have bothered.

In a gesture that I had never expected, Fang reached out and took my hand for me. Surprised, I glanced up at him, but there was no discernable change in his expression, although that never meant much. I tightened my grip, his larger hand surrounding my smaller one, and I knew that everything would be okay. Fang would always protect me and keep me safe, no matter where we were nor how long our family had to be split apart.

* * *

A/N: So I don't really like how this turned out. It's the first time I've used a little quote at the beginning, and I don't think I did a very good job incorporating it's meaning into the story well enough to give it the bittersweet feeling I intended. Overall, I think the story could be improved, but mostly I was just anxious to get it up.

Hope you enjoyed the story, and please review! Reviews are my bread and butter, or rather, realistically, my secret stash of brownies.


End file.
